


pretty as a sunset

by ficfucker



Series: saddle soarin': a rabbit lightning collection [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, yknow how it is when you think your friend is pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 07:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19389754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: lohn's tongue slips





	pretty as a sunset

Lohn watches Redd from over the rim of his glass bottle while he squints at the small television they’ve got in their tour bus and he thinks,  _ Redd looks mighty pretty with that bandana on _ . The thought half surprises him, like it’s been rocketed into his mind from an outside source. He takes a long, slow sip of his beer and contemplates the wording, the use of  _ pretty, _ and how typically, even with his floral-wearing, long-hair, singing-about-doves tendencies, he wouldn’t describe another man as  _ pretty _ . 

Redd is though, he decides on, still absently sucking on his drink. Lohn has looked at Redd like this before, but not usually without something prompting it: Redd changing out of sweaty jeans after being under the bright lights of a stage; Redd tying his hair back so it don’t whip ‘round when they drive with the windows down; Redd when he’s smiling over at girls who approach him in worn boots and big, dark-tanned leather cowgirl hats. 

“Tomorrow, after the show, I reckon we oughta start tryin’ out them new songs we bin talkin’ ‘bout,” Redd says, sitting up and leaning back. The nature documentary he’s been engrossed in is staticky now and he tweaks the slender, silver antenna attached to the box in an effort to right it. 

Lohn nods. “That’s doable. Real doable.” Lohn giggles to himself, thinks that Redd is doable, too, and this private joke of his is too funny not to laugh at. In most cases, he’d probably tell Redd what he was thinking, always a flirt, always catty with his stoic counterpart, but tonight he knows things are going to take that turn without the innuendos. 

Redd pulls a face, his eyes calculating behind their orange frames, and he asks, “You already plastered o’er there, Lohn? Drinkin’ solo tonight?” 

“Naw, jus’... thinkin’ about one of uh, those songs. One you’d written. The one you written ‘bout the peach tree.” 

Redd smirks back, knowing, and his features all drift apart, soothed that Lohn isn’t as drunk as he’s coming off as. “Peach Tree Moonshine?” 

Lohn nods eagerly. Peach Tree Moonshine is a ballad Redd had written on himself, mostly an excuse to brag and tell tall tales about his life and achievements. The title comes from a peach tree Redd was particularly attached to in his youth, they’d spent time under its shade in the summer, knee to knee with peach juice running down their chins. “Ayuh. That bit ‘bout how yer daddy’d taught you whut matin’ is? You told that one on Rhett an’ Link’s show, too.”

Redd’s face drops and Lohn prickles with nervousness. He knows what he’s doing, but it still makes him feel jittery when Redd half-scowls, and he gets up to go to the fridge in an attempt to avoid looking at Redd straight on any further. 

“Why you so hung up on it? You think there’s sumthin’ funny in what we done, Lohn?” 

Lohn closes the fridge with the edge of his boot and runs his index finger down the cold, smooth neck of his drink, breathes in, tries to ignore the feeling of Redd watching him so intensely. “It ain’t funny. Well, it’s jus’ - funny to me, I reckon, ‘cuz I  _ know _ we learnt the bird an’ the bees all on our own.” The words keep sliding out his mouth tonight, like he can’t turn the faucet off, like they’ve been waxed, and he wishes he could get himself to shut up. But he wants. Lohn is sick of spending his days watching Redd with no signs of returning attraction. 

Redd is quiet for a long stretch and from the television, Lohn hears a peafowl crying. It sounds like a fire alarm. 

“You want me broadcastin’ the truth to the world then?” Redd asks finally, his voice a shade harsh. “Tell e’eryone whut we got goin’ between us?” 

Lohn tenses and his face twists into a pout, into a pucker like he’s sucking lemon, and he kicks his boot off the corner of the fridge. He sets his drink down and looks fully at Redd. “Whut  _ do _ we got goin’ then, Redd? You gunna tell  _ me _ that first?” he spits. His heart spikes and he can feel a wave of heat flare up through his jacket and he considers taking it off, but that feels, somehow, like admitting things are intense. Lohn doesn’t want things to be this way. 

They were youngins when it happened. It was warm fall and they were 13 or 14, late bloomers, Lohn had been told when a one night stand had asked about his prior experiences, and he felt a small inkling of shame and confusion. Being with Redd had felt right; their hands curious and slow, their britches peeled back with gentle, hesitant fingers. They’d kissed before, in haylofts and by the creek, but this memory was of the first time they’d gone over the bridge, to the point of blooming sexuality. 

That was their first and only time truly together. Almost immediately after, Redd had taken an interest in girls and Lohn followed sullenly in his footsteps. They still kiss at times, when a show is especially good, when they pose for photos and Lohn wants to be cheeky for the media. They’d even necked once or twice, when they were both good and drunk, but it never involved full nudity or mutual pleasure. They would just feel each other over their jeans and writhe and pull apart whenever Redd figured they’d done enough and the day after, they were silent about it. 

“Nothin’ then. I reckon we got  _ nothin’ _ goin’ on.” 

Redd stands, flicks off the TV with his thumb, and makes to go out the door, but Lohn steps out in front of him. This close, Redd should be intimidating, his eyes sliced down to burning, orange-tinted slits, a good 7 inches in height on Lohn, his shoulders defensive in their position, but they’ve known each other a good long while. Lohn isn’t scared in the least. 

“Redd, you know I ain’t mean to- it ain’t like that,” Lohn stammers out, whatever flicker of fight he’d had in him a second ago, gone completely, deflated. “I was jus’ pointin’ out how you never tell folks the truth about how we… learnt that together. And I ain’t sayin’ it’s no one’s business but ours.”

Redd’s shoulders go down a bit. He glances away from Lohn a split second then says, “Yer sayin’ sumthin’ more, Lightning, jus’ be honest wit’ me.” 

Lohn swallows, licks the inside of his upper lip. Things are so quiet now he can hear the moths batting against the windows to get in at the light. “I wanna be wit’ ya, Redd. An’ I reckon you know it, don’t ya? I always wated you, bad, Redd.” 

For a moment, Redd looks both hurt and touched. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe argue, maybe agree, then presses himself up against Lohn and kisses him hard and full, his hands coming up to cup Lohn’s face. 

Lohn bristles, taken off guard, and he stands there dumb and struck a second, stiff as a board before melting into it and kissing back, grabbing Redd rough by the hips and pulling him impossibily closer. Redd’s facial hair prickles him like hay, but it feels good, feels like it’s supposed to be there. 

“Why you think I named this whole gitup Rabbit Lightning, huh?” Redd asks, aggressive but not mean, his nose pressed to Lohn’s nose. “You think I ever wanted us apart? Never know when you’re kiddin’ me. Always sayin’ these wild things- sayin’ but neither of us act on, do we?” 

Lohn wants to say something about how most days it doesn’t feel that way, that they’ve had plently of chances to get to this point but he’s caught up in the moment, wants more for Redd, wants it right now. “We don’t need to be apart no more at all then. Jus’ Rabbit Lightning from here on out.” 

“For real.”

“For real,” Lohn confirms and then Redd is kissing him again, pressing his tongue into Lohn’s mouth, and Lohn is tugging against Redd’s hips still, insistent with his movements. 

Redd moves his mouth down, kisses Lohn’s neck and collar bone. “Drive me crazy, Lightning. Walkin’ ‘round here, yer shirt all rucked down. Sometimes I…” Redd pauses, gives Lohn a teasing bite that makes him shiver. “Sometimes I get a hotel room by myself when I say I’m goin’ off with a gal an’ it’s jus’ me an’ I think of you the whole time.” 

Lohn can feel himself blush, his ears getting warm like he’s been caught telling a lie, and his heart swells in his chest. He wonders if Redd can feel his erection pressing up on his thigh the way he can feel Redd’s, both straining in their jeans like teens all over again, and Lohn is hit with that familiar “this is us and this is happening” feeling that bubbled inside him their first time. 

“Need you, Moonshine, need you bad,” Lohn breathes out. He’s still in his jacket, still in his boots and hat, and it’s all too much. He wants Redd pressed against him stock naked. 

Redd knows what he’s after and they stumble walk to the back room without asking if they should be doing this, land tangled in their shared bed and even in the heat of the moment, Lohn thinks,  _ Ain’t it crazy we share a bed but never been together like this ‘till now _ ? He keeps kissing Redd, his mouth quirked into a smile. 

Redd is first to pull away and for a second, Lohn is terrified Redd has changed his mind, that he’s going to go out the door and not come back. Instead, he stands and starts to unbutton his black, tasseled shirt. Lohn follows suit, shucking off his floral jacket and pops the remaining buttons of his undershirt, looking sheepishly at Redd from time to time. He kicks off his boots at the same time Redd does and looking at them together, at the end of their bed, looks like how it always looks, but it holds a new intention that excites Lohn deep in his stomach. 

“How we gunna do this?” Redd asks quietly, his voice gruff yet gentle. He’s working on his jeans and Lohn takes notice that he hasn’t bothered with his glasses or bandana at all. Lohn doesn’t remove his cowboy hat. 

Lohn is still so drunk on the fact that this is happening in the first place, that this has somehow become magic reality when all he was doing was considering if Redd is pretty, he hasn’t thought this far ahead. He clears his throat. “Well, I reckon, one a’ us gotta be lyin’ down. Like how women are.” 

A heavy blush spreads over Redd’s cheeks and he nods, his jeans at his ankles. His erection presses fully to the front of his underwear, wetting a blot of precum into them.

“Suppose that could be you,” Lohn comments quick. It embarrasses him to admit, to say it out loud like that, but every time he’s thought of Redd, Redd is always the one receiving in his mind. “‘Cuz you’ve got that long hair a yers, like a lady’s,” he adds. 

Redd nods as though this is logical and he sits on the edge of the bed, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his underwear, and he juts his chin to the left. “Lubricant an’ whutnot are in there.” 

Lohn gets up, pulls open the small drawer of the nightstand on Redd’s side of the bed, which has a lamp on top, a wooden mallard duck the base of it. He finds a handful of condoms and a plastic bottle of clear, water based lube. He takes a red foil packet, because in his mind it makes sense, to use the red one on Redd and holds the bottle in his other hand. 

When Lohn has turned his attention back to Redd, he’s already got his underwear off and is sprawled out on his back, looking up at the ceiling, his hair spread out around him like a cape. 

“Look pretty, Redd,” Lohn whispers. He doesn’t know all the ins and outs to being with a man, but he’s heard enough to know the next step. He squeezes a dollop of lube onto his index finger, rubs it between his middle.

“Pretty?” He lifts his legs, hooks his arms under his knees, and presents himself completely, making Lohn throb in his underwear. 

Lohn kneels and swipes a finger over Redd’s entrance, smiles to himself when Redd quivers. “Pretty as a sunset,” he says. He presses his finger to Redd’s hole, watches as his first knuckle is slowly accepted and kind of marvels at it, how Redd’s body accepts him willingly yet resistant at the same time. 

Redd sucks air in through his teeth, releases it in a huff. “Yer a god dang fool, Lohn Lightning.” 

Lohn pushes in further and once his whole index is accepted, he’s not sure what comes next so he wiggles it experimentally and Redd makes a sharp, surprised noise followed by, “Glory!”

“Ain’t hurtin’ you none, am I?” 

“N-Naw, Lohn, jus’ feels real… different. Not bad. Ain’t hurtin’.” 

Lohn moves his finger ‘round until Redd seems to relax some more and tells him to add another, and this continues so Lohn’s got 3 fingers in Redd and Redd is panting. 

“Reckon that’s enough,” Redd croaks out. “We can get along now, if yer ready, too.” 

Lohn doesn’t need anymore prompting. He extracts his fingers, slow and gentle, and Redd makes a whimpering sound that lights up Lohn’s insides like a firecracker. He shucks off his underwear, unsheathes the condom, and rolls it on while making eye contact with Redd, who looks a mess. His face is ruddied with a blush, his hair still strewn out over the mattress, eyes uncharacteristically shy behind their frames. 

He squeezes a line of lubricant over the condom, spreads it even over his cock with his right hand before lining up against Redd. His thighs tremble ever so slightly and Lohn wraps his left hand around Redd’s left thigh in an attempt to comfort him. 

“Ya ready?” Lohn asks quietly. 

Redd nods. “Bin ready,” he answers, which is big talk for someone who was moaning the way he was just a minute ago, but Lohn isn’t going to argue it. 

Lohn presses in slow, his eyes screwing shut as soon as the faintest grip of pressure licks at him, Redd’s warmth and tightness overwhelming instantly. He groans, huffs. He opens his eyes when he’s halfway in to look down at Redd, who looks dirty and perfect; eyes unfixed, mouth ajar, chest heaving with gulps of air. 

Redd bottoms out and he groans, lolls his head back. He mumbles, “Lord above.” 

“You doin’ alright down there?” Lohn asks. 

Redd kinda nods, licks his lips. “Try movin’.” 

Lohn does and he moans unabashedly, rolls his hips in a tight wave, curious but intense, and Redd moans, too, tightens around Lohn. “Glory, Redd, feel so good,” Lohn sputters, giving Redd a squeeze on his thigh. He spreads Redd’s legs apart so his knees aren’t up in his face and swoops his mouth down to capture Redd in a kiss, thrusts into him again as he does. 

Redd licks into Lohn’s mouth, their jaws slack as their bodies move against each other, and he takes Lohn by the wrist, leads his hand over to his cock, and Lohn understands, starts jerking him off with the slick gathered in his hand. Tightening again, Redd moans, starts to shift himself back to meet Lohn’s thrusts and Lohn nearly goes cross eyed from the feeling. 

“Gunna-Gunna write a song ‘bout this time?” Lohn teases, grinning. 

“Gunna call it When Lightning Strikes,” Redd answers and Lohn ghosts a laugh that turns into a moan.

Redd shifts, lifts his hips up a certain way, and it must change something Lohn doesn’t quite understand because he shrieks a moan, his pupils blown wide, and his nails rake bluntly into the smooth field between Lohn’s shoulder blades. “There,” he pants. “Feels mighty  _ swell _ right-right there.” His cock weeps into Lohn’s palm, leaks precum that puddles. 

Lohn kisses at Redd’s neck, bites and sucks to see if he can leave any marks, and when he pulls back to see red-purple blotches rising to the surface, he fills with a devilish delight, imaging women at shows seeing those hickeys and wishing they’d put them there. 

Redd hasn’t stopped making high, tinny noises and between them he says, urgently, “I ain’t gonna last much longer, Lohn. Bin a while since I…” He cuts himself off, like he’s suddenly embarrassed by it. 

“Bin a while for me, too, Redd, s’alright, right there behind ya.” Lohn pauses to spit in his hand, goes back to stroking Redd with a fierce, tight speed, wanting to get him there, wanting to be the reason he’s spilling over. 

Redd’s body starts to clench in intervals, his biceps flexing followed by his thighs getting firm as stone, his lower stomach squeezing and his back arching off the mattress, getting taut like a straining rope. Lohn keeps pressing up on that special spot inside Redd, the magic spot that makes Redd moan and writhe like he’s going to burst into tears and Redd begins moaning, “Oh, Lightning, oh, Lohn,” quickly. 

Lohn watches him intensely. His orange glasses are crooked on his face and his tongue keeps poking out in quick flashes of pink to wet his lips, eyebrows scrunched together like he’s thinking hard. Redd looks so good like this, Lohn can hardly believe he’s the one who’s done it to him. It makes his stomach fill with a raging warmth, makes his balls feel heavy with need. 

A moan sputters from Redd and he twists his head in a wince and then he’s coming in Lohn’s palm, painting thin, pearly ropes over his fingers, onto his stomach. And while he orgasms, crying and panting, he tightens hard around Lohn, like a vice, and that does him in; his veins hot with arousal, his cock throbbing inside of the condom inside of Redd. 

“Lord Almighty,” Redd breathes when he seems to find his voice again. 

Lohn hums and holding the base of the condom, slips himself out of Redd, pulls the rubber off, drops it in the trash bin near their bed before crawling in next to Redd. “That sure was sumthin’, wasn’t it?” he says softly. 

Redd takes off Lohn’s hat and places it over his face like he’s trying to shield himself from sun out in a field and grabs Lohn by the shoulder, pulls him close next to him. “Sure was, Lohn. Happened so… spontaneous.”

“Like how rabbits do it.” Redd smells like sweat and salt, under that something earthy, like campfires and wet leaves, and Lohn pokes his nose into Redd’s bare arm. 

“I reckon so.” 

“Bet we’ll have a lotta singin’ to do tomorrow.” 

Redd yawns from under the hat and rubs Lohn’s shoulder. “I got a feelin’ we’ll have a lotta singin’ to do for a long time now.” 

**Author's Note:**

> listen......... their songs slap 
> 
> kudos + comments if you enjoyed!
> 
> talk to me on tmblr @ficfucker


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